Page 12 of Enticing Little Omega (Twisted Little Tales #5)

Anton

T he diner smelled like coffee and sugar and too many people crammed into too small a space.

I hated it on principle.

Our Omega, our mate, has been working here, slaving away here for the last two years. Not to mention the years she slaved away for my damn, fucking mother before that.

The bell above the door jingled as we stepped inside, and my hackles went up instantly. Not from aggression, but anticipation. The kind that sat low in your gut and wound tight the longer it was ignored.

Cindy—no Christa—was here.

I knew it the second we crossed the threshold.

Her floral, sweet scent, faint beneath the strong notes of grease and coffee, still hit me like a punch to the gut.

But the moment we stepped in and she made eye contact, she bolted.

No fanfare, no shouting, no confrontation.

Just one terrified look in our direction and then she was gone, disappearing into the back like we were the damn plague.

"Well, that went well," I muttered, sliding into a booth near the window.

A blonde waitress raced into the back after Christa and I took a deep breath that was meant to steady me.

It didn't work.

William didn't sit. Of course he didn't. He just stood there like a statue, staring at the swinging kitchen door like it might swing back open on its own, gifting us our prize. "We shouldn't have come so soon," he said, his voice tight.

"No shit," Drew added, crossing his arms. "I said it should just be two of us. You two had, what, one calm conversation with her. We should have given her some space."

Annerly sighed, already rubbing his temples. "We talked about this. She said she was open to us courting her. Christa agreed to this. We didn't just show up uninvited—"

"Except we kind of did," Drew interrupted. "Showing up at her workplace like this? What did you think she'd do? Hug us and give us each a kiss hello?"

"This is exactly why we fell apart the first time," I muttered under my breath.

That shut them all up for a blessed second.

I didn't bother elaborating.

They all knew what I meant. Too many strong wills and opinions pulling us all in different directions. Not one of us bothering to stop and listen. We'd lost each other in the chaos after she ran.

We didn't just lose her; we lost ourselves. And we weren't getting her back until we got us back to where we should be.

I stood, ignoring William's confused glance.

"Where are you going?" Annerly asked.

I didn't answer. I just rounded the counter and headed toward the kitchen.

If Christa didn't want to see us, fine. But I wasn't going to sit around while my pack picked themselves apart again.

I made my way behind the counter to the pass-through window. I could have gone into the kitchen, but I didn't want her to feel like we were invading her space anymore than we already were. What I saw when I looked through the window was a scene I hadn't expected.

Christa was huddled between a tall, broad-shouldered man who looked like he could punch a wall for fun, and the petite blonde girl that had followed Christa into the kitchen. She had to be Honey, the Omega William and Annerly had saved.

The Beta's arms were around both of the women like they were the most precious things in the world, and maybe they were.

It hit me then.

This was her life now. The one she built after us. After running from us.

I cleared my throat. Not to get their attention, but to push away the sudden onset of fear.

Fear that we were the monsters after all.

Wouldn't we be exactly that if we expected her to just pack up her life and come with us?

Christa looked up when she heard me, regardless, and her eyes widened, panic rippling across her expression like a struck chord. That abject fear made me feel even more like a monster.

The older man also pulled back, fixing me with a narrowed glare. "You lost, son?" he asked.

"No," I said flatly, refusing to show any weakness. All those lessons Tracy taught us were impossible to shake. "I'm here to speak with Christa. Alone."

Honey bristled immediately, the angry emotion looking out of place on the small Omega's face.

"It's okay," Christa said, voice quiet but firm.

I felt my chest warm with pride for her.

"Just give us a minute, please?" she asked both the Omega and older Beta male.

The older man looked like he wanted to argue, but with a grunt and a muttered curse, he gave a nod and led Honey away.

I waited until they were gone before I spoke again.

"You don't have to talk if you don't want to," I said. "But I needed to see you."

She crossed her arms, protecting herself and breaking my heart just a bit more. "You're seeing me now."

I winced, because now that we were alone, her tone was... off. Cold somehow.

Silence stretched between us, taut and fragile. I needed to move past this, past the fear, past the conditioning that my damn mother fostered in me.

Drew had always done so much better with emotion than I did.

"I..." I took a deep, steadying breath. "I just wanted to see you, and tell you.

.. Well, tell you I'm glad we found you again, I guess.

And—" I started pacing the small open space in the cramped kitchen while running my hands through my carefully styled hair, completely messing it up and, for once, not giving a fuck.

"Fuck. Shit. Okay, Christa, I'm sorry. So incredibly sorry that we never went back home to meet you and protect you from her. "

Christa's eyes grew large at my outburst. Not scared, just shocked.

The silence was so incredibly loud after that, I had to force myself to remain where I was and not run away from all the word vomit I'd just spilt.

"What the fuck are you talking about?" she finally asked incredulously. "You... you're sorry you didn't come back home, so you could what? Stop your mom from abusing me?"

I shrugged.

"You're kidding, right? In what world would you have known?"

Unable to control myself, I started pacing again. The Alpha in me wanted—no, needed —to go to her, hold her, feel her against me, to soothe myself, and that was a purely selfish action. One I could not allow myself.

"We grew up with her, little Omega. I know exactly the horrors you were subjected to under her thumb."

"Oh."

That's it. That's all she had to say.

Oh.

I didn't know what I had expected, but 'oh' definitely wasn't it.

The word landed harder than any punch ever could.

Because it wasn't indifference.

It was understanding.

And that was somehow worse.